


Malcolm's Rough Night

by Warp5Complex_Archivist



Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-02-28
Updated: 2006-02-28
Packaged: 2018-08-15 17:50:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8066983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Warp5Complex_Archivist/pseuds/Warp5Complex_Archivist
Summary: An alien party has strange consequences for Reed. (06/05/2003)





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Kylie Lee, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Warp 5 Complex](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Warp_5_Complex), the software of which ceased to be maintained and created a security hazard. To make future maintenance and archive growth easier, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but I may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Warp 5 Complex collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/Warp5Complex).

"Psst."

Malcolm Reed looked around the formal dining hall, trying to determine the source of the noise. The Protectorate of Anisia had insisted on throwing a lavish ball for the officers of Enterprise, and it seemed as though the entire populace of the planet was crammed into the hall. Reed slipped a finger into the collar of his dress uniform and wondered when it had gotten so bloody hot. He had an abominable headache, as well, made worse by the constant level of noise.

"Hey. Over here."

Reed swiveled his head, homing in on a portly man seated to his left.

"That's right, mate. Right here."

It wasn't the man who was speaking. Nestled in his lap amongst the folds of his robe, an animal that appeared to be a cross between a fox and a cat was looking up at him intently. Reed raised an eyebrow and pointed to himself hesitantly.

"Yeah, you," the creature said. "Would you mind grabbing a piece of that roast for me?" The fox/cat jerked an impatient head at its owner. "Fat boy over here is oblivious."

Reed wiped sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand and darted a quick glance around. If anyone else heard the animal's complaint, they gave no indication. "Er, would you excuse me, please?" He made his way a bit unsteadily to T'Pol's side. "Pardon me, Sub-commander. Do you see the animal on that gentleman's lap?"

The Vulcan followed his gaze. "It is called an eritu. Many Anisians keep them as domestic pets."

"Ah, yes, I see." Reed fidgeted in place for a moment, conscious of T'Pol's assessing stare. "The, um, eritu. Was there any mention of them being...sentient?"

"No," came the unequivocal response. "Lieutenant, are you well? You seem to be perspiring excessively."

"Actually, Sub-commander, I believe I'm taking ill." T'pol's lovely face dissolved like a watercolor left out in the rain, and then Reed's vision slid into darkness.

* * *

He woke up in sickbay, the pounding in his head muted to a manageable level. He felt detached and light-headed and recognized the telltale side effects of Phlox's analgesic jellyfish. Sure enough, he felt the tickle of tentacles on the side of his neck.

"Ah, you're awake." The Denobulan approached the bed with a smile. "How are you feeling?"

"Better," he croaked. "What happened?"

"As near as I can tell, you've picked up a local virus. Fortunately, the other members of the landing party don't seem to have been affected."

"Why not?" Reed closed his eyes, on the edge of drifting back to sleep.

"Quite fascinating, really. Something in your blood chemistry left you susceptible while the others were not. I believe it's related to your allergy injections. You see, your histamine count—"

HUNGRY

Reed's eyes snapped open. "What did you say?"

Phlox blinked. "Your susceptibility to the virus. It's based on the histamine levels—"

"No, not that. Did you just say you were hungry?"

"I'm afraid not, Lieutenant. Your ears must be deceiving you."

HUNGRY VERY HUNGRY SO TASTY

Reed's heart began to beat faster. Over his head, a corresponding monitor beeped in alarm. "Doctor, this thing on my neck, what exactly does it do?"

"The Freejan Amoeba? Very effective painkiller. Intercepts the prostaglandin before it can be transmitted to the brain. Eats it, if you will. It has a nearly insatiable appetite."

"Yes, I know," Malcolm replied. "It's very hungry."

"No doubt, but how did you know that?"

Reed smiled. "It told me."

* * *

Archer tugged the collar of his dress uniform open, frowning at the smoky odor clinging to the fabric. The local variant of tobacco was apparently very popular given the bluish haze that had shrouded the partygoers, and now the captain of the Enterprise smelled like he'd been at an all-night poker game. Archer stifled a yawn and turned to his companion. "So it's not contagious?"

Phlox had accompanied him from the airlock and now stood with him outside his quarters. "No, not at all. There are only two other crewmembers on board who are being treated with antihistamines, and they've had no contact with the lieutenant."

"Good. How's he doing?"

"He's currently running quite a fever," the Denobulan said. "The antibiotics I've tried so far haven't had any effect, but I'm confident I'll hit upon the right one eventually."

Archer didn't like the sound of that. "Eventually?"

"Not to worry, Captain," the doctor soothed. "He's not in danger, nor is he in pain. He is, however, quite delirious. In fact, when I left him he was deep in conversation with my bat."

* * *

"So you really don't mind being shut in a cage all day? I'd have thought you'd be happier on your home planet, free to come and go as you please."

The bat regarded him with bright, beady eyes and shifted its grip on its perch. Malcolm crooked his head to one side, finding it unsettling to converse with someone who was hanging upside-down. "Nah," it said, revealing small, pointed teeth. "It's not so bad. There's something to be said for guaranteed regular meals, ya know?"

"Yes, but wouldn't you rather be free to hunt for your own food?"

The bat snorted and flicked its ears. "Would you?"

"Good point," Malcolm conceded.

"Besides, I like the idea of traveling to new places. I've always had a sense of adventure, it's why I volunteered for this mission."

"Phlox said he caught you in a net," Malcolm responded, rather unkindly.

"And we'll let him go right on thinking that. I let myself be captured, once word got out he was a doctor. I like helping people."

The doors to sickbay swished open, admitting Dr. Phlox. "Lieutenant, I trust your discussion has been entertaining?"

"Very much so. I had no idea bats were such fascinating conversationalists."

"Well, you need to rest, so I'm afraid it's time for your companion to depart. Unless you'd care to ask him why he persists in escaping his cage?"

Malcolm gazed at the animal for a moment, then looked up with a smile. "He says it's to add excitement to your life. He doesn't want you to get bored."

Grinning in spite of himself, Phlox picked up the cage and returned it to its usual place. "Is that so," he murmured. "No escape attempts tonight, hmm? We've enough excitement for the moment." Perhaps Reed's fever was contagious after all, for Phlox could have sworn the bat smirked at him. "All right, Mr. Reed. I've another antibiotic to give you, after which I expect you'll take a long nap."

As the hypospray hissed against his neck, Malcolm began to giggle. The last thing he heard before sleep overtook him was the bat's high, thin voice singing a very bawdy tune.

* * *

When Malcolm next awoke, his headache was back and he was desperately thirsty. Also, Porthos was sitting on his legs regarding him with a tilted head and bright, curious eyes. "Hey, boy," Malcolm croaked.

"Hey yourself," replied the beagle. "Wow, you look rough. Get it? Ruff?" He wiggled his eyebrows, but gave up as Malcolm only blinked. "Never mind, old dog joke. You really are out of it." Porthos padded his way up Malcolm's body, plopping his butt down on his chest. "So, you're talking to animals now, eh? You don't seem too concerned about that."

"I should be, shouldn't I?" Malcolm frowned and tried to summon up the appropriate amount of panic, but it made his head hurt and he gave it up as a bad job. "I'm rather ill," he offered by way of explanation.

"I've been there. Almost ended up in the big kennel in the sky, if you know what I mean. Dr. Phlox pulled me through, though. You're in good paws. Er, hands."

"I know. I'm here quite frequently. Though I've never spoken to the bat before. Tell me something. How do you like being on Enterprise?"

"It's kinda boring. No trees, and everything smells funny."

"The bat seems to like it well enough."

"Yeah, well, he used to live in a cave, all right? This is high adventure for him. Besides, he's always been an optimist. Me, I have to fake it sometimes."

"Not as perky as you let on, eh?"

Porthos made a hunching gesture that might have been a shrug. "Comes with the job. That's why I'm here, to amuse the humans."

"The captain certainly adores you."

The beagle's face softened, and his tail thumped softly against Malcolm's belly. "Yeah, John's a good boy. Every dog should have a human like him—so easily trained, so eager to please. So easy to impress. Watch this." Porthos sat up on his hind legs, his front paws waving slightly in front of him. "Piece of cake—any puppy can do it. But John can't get enough of it. I've got him trained to feed me treats every time."

Malcolm yawned, feeling warm and sleepy. "You're a good bit more clever than I realized. Naughtier, too."

The beagle snickered. "Guilty as charged. Right now John's going crazy trying to figure out how I'm getting out of our quarters."

"How are you?"

"Simple physics." Malcolm faded out while Porthos was explaining the proper trajectory at which to throw a squeaky ball so that it would hit the door control.

* * *

The world blurred and shifted, finally coalescing into Archer's worried face. "Hi Malcolm. How are you feeling?"

"Hello, sir," Reed muttered, looking around sickbay. "Is Porthos with you?"

The captain smiled. "He's back in his quarters where he belongs. Wish I knew how he was getting out of there."

"I don't really know, sir. I fell asleep while he was telling me. Would you apologize to him for me? It was quite rude. Inexcusable, really..." Malcolm's voice was growing steadily fainter in his own ears, the increasingly alarmed expression on Archer's face losing clarity. Phlox's voice sounded near his ear.

"All right, Lieutenant, one more injection. I have a feeling this one's going to do it." Another hiss, another black curtain drawn over his eyes.

* * *

Malcolm exited the turbolift and headed back to his quarters. His first day back on duty had been uneventful, if one discounted the good-natured teasing he'd been subject to. 'Malcolm Dolittle,' or so Trip had called him, had been celebrated in story and song for the entire shift, and he'd no doubt be finding dog toys on his chair for many days to come.

"Malcolm."

Reed turned and saw Archer heading down the corridor, Porthos trotting at his heels. "Good evening, sir."

"It was good to have you back on the bridge today. I must say, it's a relief to see you back to normal. You had me pretty worried there."

Malcolm squirmed, aware that he was studiously not looking at Porthos. "I apologize, sir. From what I remember, I had some rather...vivid hallucinations."

"It certainly sounded interesting. Well, I'll let you go. Just thought I'd bring Porthos by to say hello. And anything else he might have on his mind."

Reed glanced from the captain's mischievous grin to the dog sitting at his feet. Just as quickly he looked up again and bid the captain good night, fumbling with the control to his door. God knew he'd be back on a biobed in a heartbeat if he told anyone that Porthos had just winked at him.


End file.
